


A Sobering Situation

by Callmesalticidae, DaneelsSoul, shadow_wasserson



Series: Building From Scratch [6]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Breakups, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Sober Gamzee, Sopor Slime, dead trolls, drugged gamzee, fuzzy memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 11:16:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8054185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callmesalticidae/pseuds/Callmesalticidae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaneelsSoul/pseuds/DaneelsSoul, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadow_wasserson/pseuds/shadow_wasserson
Summary: CG: LOOK, I HAD TO DO *SOMETHING* WITH HIM, AFTER THE SUPERNOVA OF SHIT BLEW OVER.CG: HE WAS MY RESPONSIBILITY.CG: I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.





	A Sobering Situation

**Author's Note:**

> Act 3, Intermission 1 of Building from Scratch

By the time he reached his room, Karkat was practically dragging Gamzee, and himself, through the door. His nose was still bleeding and his sides smarted, but he didn’t make a peep.

The mutant lay his unconscious friend down as gently as he could on the sodden nest of clothes that he’d been using as a recuperacoon for the past sweep and a half. He wanted to sleep, but he couldn’t. What if Gamzee woke up?

He was tired, and his head hurt. Fuck this. Fuck Terezi.

His hands clenched. Unclenched. He couldn’t think about Terezi right now. He couldn’t afford to think about Terezi right now. Focus Karkat. Focus.

“Gamzee,” he said, and nudged the clown with his foot. Not that he expected a nudge to do much, as he’d just been dropped on his face and hadn’t twitched.

So instead, Karkat adjusted the filthy bandage around Gamzee’s horn, then stepped back, sat down with his back against the door, and waited.

He wasn’t sure how long it would take for Gamzee to wake up. He managed to staunch his nosebleed and check himself for any broken ribs (there were none). There was plenty of time to think. To reflect that Terezi might have actually been trying to show concern for Gamzee, in suggesting that Karkat put him down before the beating. To wonder if he would even be able to auspiticize effectively from a lower rank. To realize that all his grandiose goals of building a civilization had now been reoriented to ‘survive,’ and to come to terms with that reorientation.

“Whoa.” Karkat’s head snapped up at the sound of Gamzee’s wavering voice. “Heh heh. Man. Brother I was out like a motherfucker.”

“Yes,” replied Karkat. He felt oddly at a loss, and his voice was flat. “You definitely were out like a motherfucker.”

Gamzee sat up, a lazy, lopsided smile on his face. “What’s wrong, bro?” The smile fell. “Brother you get into a fight? You look beat all to shit, man.”

“Gamzee,” said Karkat, and decided not to answer the question. “How much do you remember from like, the last sweep?”

“Oh brother I don’t even motherfucking know. I’m just cruising through life my invertebro. Every day’s a miracle. Honk.”

“Gamzee. I mean it. What do you remember?”

“Huh,” Gamzee furrowed his brow and reached up as though to scratch his broken horn. “Not much brother, my head’s all getting its fuzzy on.” He paused. “Whoa. My horn’s gone.”

“I told you that before. Don’t let me stop you if you want to shove your fingers into your sponge clots, but you’ll be cleaning up the mess yourself.”

Gamzee laughed. He laughed.

“Fuck, brother, did the motherfucker what hit me hit you too?”

“No, it was Terezi that hit me.”

“Heh heh! Brother you getting your hate on?” Gamzee stuck his tongue out obscenely.

“Fuck no, not like that at least.” Karkat groaned and rubbed his knuckles into his eyes.

“Okay.” Gamzee rolled his head around, stretching his neck. “Man, have I got a craving for some wicked elixir.”

“I don’t have any right now. Gamzee, I’m fucking serious. You really don’t remember anything?”

“Hmmm. I dunno.” Gamzee closed his eyes and seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, his head bobbing up and down as if to music.

Then, he smiled, wide and wicked. “I think I made out with Tavros.”

Karkat really had nothing to say to that for a good while. Then; “Tavros is dead. You know that, right?”

“Ha ha what?” Gamzee was still smiling lazily, relaxed, not a care in the multiverse. “You tugging my frond, bro?”

Karkat swallowed. “I’m not. Vriska killed him.”

Gamzee’s smile faded, and his eyes went wide. “The insectisister what?”

“But… look, then Terezi killed Vriska, so-”

Gamzee looked horrified. “Why?” he managed.

“Because Vriska was going to draw the demon to us… look it’s a long story. God.” Karkat rubbed his eyes again, and flinched as one knuckle brushed a fresh bruise. “But I’ve been to the dreambubbles since then and Tavros is dating Vriska there, so I guess they worked it out into a manageable hate, whatever ‘it‘ was.”

“Musta been a miracle.”

“Shut up. There’s no such thing as miracles.”

“Aw, brother you don’t even know.” Gamzee wasn’t smiling. He actually looked pretty choked up. “Miracles happen every day. Like me having a moirail like you, bro.”

Oh god. Karkat swallowed. “I can’t be your moirail anymore, Gamzee. I’m seeing someone else.”

“Oh, okay bro. That’s cool.” Fuck, he was crying now. Big thick sloppy pitiful tears. He wasn’t even trying to wipe them away or cover his face. Shit.

“Stop crying, you’re making a mess of yourself.” But Karkat couldn’t quite seem to dredge up the vitriol he was hoping for. “Can you, can you try to have some dignity here? Or fuck, even just pretend?”

Gamzee smiled a little, even through the tears. “I never had no dignity, brother. Like my bro Equius said, I-”

Gamzee stopped as he mentioned the blueblood, and pursed his lips as if thinking hard. Karkat swallowed thickly. He felt dead inside. How was he supposed to do this? “Gamzee, do you remember what happened to Equius?”

Gamzee’s mouth twitched a little, like he was trying not to laugh. Then he frowned. His eyes were wide, but stared past Karkat, like he was looking into a distant horizon. He stood up. He wasn’t looking at Karkat at all.

“No motherfucking way,” he said. His voice was a quiet rasp. “That motherfucker could eat a filial drone for breakfast man, no way he would go let hisself get popped.” The purple-blooded troll fell silent.

Then, eventually, quietly; “Why would I motherfucking do that?”

“I don’t know,” Karkat said wearily. “I don’t think any of us knew. You flipped off the handle. Fucking pirouetted.”

“Motherfuck.” Gamzee turned around, and leaned his forehead against the wall of the respiteblock. “Motherfuck.”

“Gamzee.”

“I didn’t want- Why- Didn’t even fucking know that brother ‘fore he went to Shangri La.”

“Gamzee.”

Gamzee turned his head slightly to look at Karkat. His eyes were full of tears again, and Karkat felt… well, he felt some pity, but he felt mostly angry. He didn’t need remorse from Gamzee, that wasn’t helpful. He needed Gamzee to understand.

“Gamzee, I don’t know how long your… I don’t know how long sopor lasts. So I’m going to have to tie you up, okay?”

Karkat took out his chair, then grabbed Gamzee and sat him down. The larger troll was like putty, not resisting at all. He took the sodden clothing pile (no, not pile. Don’t think of it as a pile) and cut it with his scythes until he could tie the rags into a serviceable rope. He tied Gamzee to the chair, firmly but he hoped not so tightly as to cut off circulation.

Gamzee sat and cried a little, and honked sadly for a while. Then he seemed to regain some of his spirits, and talked about what a motherfucking beautiful troll Tavros was. He went on about the mirthful messiahs for a while, and how happy Tavros and Equius and Vriska must be in Shangri La.

Karkat listened for hours as Gamzee babbled on, occasionally grunting in response, and didn’t bother correcting him about his absurd notions of the afterlife. Not even when Gamzee’s proclamations about the deaths being a “motherfucking shame” became more vehement. He became slightly more worried when Gamzee swore vengeance against Terezi, and assured the clown that vengeance was not necessary.

When Gamzee mentioned painting the walls with Terezi’s blood, Karkat realized that he was probably sobering up. And when Gamzee called him a ‘shitblood heretic,’ Karkat stopped trying to talk to him at all. It’s not like he could shoosh Gamzee. Not anymore.

Eventually, hunger pangs drove Karkat from the room, and he left Gamzee to rage in relative peace.

He never mentioned Nepeta.


End file.
